


Sayonara

by peteor



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peteor/pseuds/peteor
Summary: He blinks, and he’s back in his car, watching Carolina and Wash head back into the Church household. Tucker’s brain supplies that yes, it is the Church household. Yes, they’re married, yes, Wash took his name, yes, Wash took everything Church ever gave him until what Church gave him became all he had and that means he has nothing, now, doesn’t it?--the fic where church kills himself





	Sayonara

No good thing is about to happen when somebody calls you at 2am.

 

Tucker learned it years ago, when he was a teenager, when he got a call from his friend about his dead dog. He was reminded when he was woken up by a phone call from the hospital in college, letting him know his dad had finally passed. One final call not even a year ago, from Donut, asking for some company after a bad break-up.

 

So when he’s woken up at 2:23, by his “ALERT! ASSHOLE CALLING!” ringtone, Tucker sits up and runs through the long list of things in Washington’s life that could possibly go wrong.

 

Nothing would have prepared him for this.

 

The only thing Tucker hears for a long while after he says hello is Wash’s heavy sobs. Tucker’s never heard Wash cry before, and the shock of that has his heart racing already.

  
“Wash? Wash, what’s going on?”

 

Call it best friend instinct, but the second Wash manages to choke out, “ _ Church _ ,” Tucker knows.

 

He knows. They’d been together in college, and inseparable ever since. Tucker’s talked him down too many times to count, and god, does he wish he could have talked him down again.

 

He thinks, he should have known. He thinks, he should have seen it coming. He thinks, this is a nightmare.

 

He thinks, how is he going to tell Junior?

 

And from there, he stops thinking altogether. Because Wash is  _ crying _ . Wash is  _ sobbing _ to him over the phone, and Tucker will be damned if he doesn’t remember all the times he’s talked  _ Wash _ down, too.

 

“Where are you, Wash?”

 

“Home.”

 

So he gets on the phone with Doc, who’s already heard - and of course he has, Tucker’s not the idiot who thinks he’d be Wash’s first call. He gets on the phone with Doc for a babysitter, and Doc - bless his annoying soul - is already almost there. So Tucker changes faster than the wind in a hurricane and blows out the door, peeling out of his driveway right as Doc pulls in.

 

He sees the red and white lights, sees the EMTs wheeling a stretcher out of the house with a covered body on top, sees Wash’s figure towering over everyone, beside the stretcher every step of the way, and bile rises up in Tucker’s throat when his racing thoughts catch up with the situation and both hit him full force across the finish line.

 

He pulls over and slams the brakes before he rear-ends Carolina’s car, and then runs up just in time to see them slam the ambulance doors, just in time to see Wash collapse onto the curb, just in time to see Carolina crouch beside him and pull him close.

 

He freezes, then, and stares. He can’t move and he’s not sure he wants to move because that would mean walking forward and addressing the two strongest people he knows, as they curl up together on the sidewalk at 2:30 in the morning and cry together.

 

Carolina’s crying is silent, and her eyes are open wide, shining even in the darkness as she stares off into space. Tucker almost thinks she can see him, but realizes soon that she’s probably not seeing much of anything.

 

Wash’s crying is loud, ugly. He’s got his head in his hands and his shoulders are heaving and the sounds he’s making make Tucker want to vomit again. It’s not right, none of it is, and Tucker swallows hard - several times - and backs away. It’s not right. Tucker’s not crying.

 

He should be.

 

His best friend is  _ dead _ .

 

He blinks, and he’s back in his car, watching Carolina and Wash head back into the Church household. Tucker’s brain supplies that yes, it is the Church household. Yes, they’re married. Yes, Wash took Church's name. Yes, Wash took  _ everything _ Church ever gave him until what Church gave him became all he had and that means he has nothing, now, doesn’t it?

 

He blinks, and he’s got his phone to his ear, and he’s not sure who he’s calling until she picks up.

 

“You’d better have a damn good reason for calling me at three in the morning,  _ Tucker _ .”

 

And god, she sounds like Church.

 

“Tex.” Tucker says, and Tex is quiet, because  _ Tucker _ is quiet, and Tucker’s  _ never _ quiet.

 

“...what happened.”

 

“Church is dead.”

 

Tex hangs up.

 

Tucker thinks, who else does he have to call?

 

He calls Grif, who promises to tell Simmons and Kaikaina in a tone softer than Tucker’s heard in a long time, and then bids Tucker farewell with a tired, “Need a fuckin’ smoke.”

 

He calls Donut, who has already been told by Doc, who is already halfway through a 12-pack of cheap beer from the 24/7 liquor store. He invites Tucker over, and Tucker accepts that offer, because he can’t be here, anymore.

 

He calls Sheila, who doesn’t answer, but texts him, “I know, I’m sorry,” minutes after he hangs up.

 

He doesn’t call Caboose.

 

He  _ can’t _ call Caboose.

 

So he calls Church.

 

“--hey there, it’s Church. Can’t come to the phone, and I probably won’t return your call. If you’re someone important, call my work line. If you don’t have my work line, you’re not important. Sayonara, bitches.”

 

Tucker barks out a laugh that sounds more like a sob, and then he’s crying. The tears are hot down his cheeks and he’s got a smile on his face. The tone sounds and he’s crying into the phone, hands shaking too hard to hang up, and he has to pull over because his tears blur his vision too much to drive safe.

 

He cries into the phone until the message cuts off and thinks, nobody is going to listen to this message. Thinks, Church is never going to say another word again.

 

And suddenly Tucker’s furious, because how  _ dare he _ . He promised Tucker, all those times, all those  _ countless _ times that he’d never. He’d never do it, because he knew it would hurt  _ everyone _ . How  _ dare he _ be so fucking  _ selfish _ .

  
Tucker’s hands are trembling for a different reason now, and his eyes are dry. He has to text Donut that he won’t be coming, that he has to go for a drive, that he has to clear his head, that he hopes Donut’s doing okay, and he’ll talk to him later.

 

His phone starts ringing. Donut. Tucker growls in frustration and sends him to voicemail.

 

His phone is ringing, again, blaring Donut’s infuriating ringtone, and Tucker growls even louder and sends him to voicemail  _ again _ .

 

Third time, Tucker pulls over again, tires screeching as he stops. With a growl that turns into a cry, Tucker opens his door and grabs his phone, stepping out and throwing his phone onto the ground so hard it shatters even with the case on. Then he tramples it under his foot, stomping and cursing through his teeth, until Beyonce’s voice dissipates in a burst of static.

 

He could have put the phone on silent, he realizes after three more blocks, shattered phone lying on the passenger seat.

 

Whatever.

 

He keeps driving, hands gripping the wheel hard enough to numb his arms up to his elbows. The streets are empty, so Tucker hits the gas and goes faster and faster until he’s on the highway. He thinks, he’ll stop when his thoughts stop, but he knows his thoughts won’t stop. His thoughts haven’t stopped since the day he was born, and it  _ pisses him the hell off _ .

 

He’s pissed off, never has been more pissed off, and a part of him knows this is some weird coping mechanism of some kind, probably, because whenever everyone around him is upset he’s always  _ furious _ . He broke every plate he owned after his dad died. He punched a hole in the wall after his most recent ex girlfriend cheated on him.

 

Broke his wrist for that one, and got scolded by Church the entire time he had the cast--

 

Tucker narrows his eyes and presses the gas pedal down completely, hearing his car roar to life beneath his feet as he speeds towards an intersection.

 

The last thing he remembers after running the red light is a blaring car horn, the sound of shattering glass, and the taste of blood in his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> i know it kinda ends like there SHOULD be another chapter but i wrote this approximately (not even exaggerating) 7 months ago so i'm not going back


End file.
